


Rocket Cider

by enmity



Category: Persona 2, Persona Series
Genre: F/F, ufo hunting (just a bakground detail tho sorry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 08:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16828849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enmity/pseuds/enmity
Summary: “Can you really catch UFOs with butterfly nets?”





	Rocket Cider

**Author's Note:**

> based on [a tweet](https://twitter.com/maiacustom/status/1039982104757452800) i made in september, in turn based on this tumblr [post](http://commiegf.tumblr.com/post/169977846439/nyahilist-nyahilist-i-need-a-gf-who-will-go). as i might've promised, it had some angst, but i somehow know how to write cute things now, so you win some, lose some. wow im emotional over random ass p2 f/f at 11pm again. bear w/ me i havent written p2 in a while

She pulled Chikalin up a tricky ledge with one easy heave, smiling as she let go. “We’re not just gonna watch the stars, though,” said Noriko, when she caught the other girl standing to her feet, green eyes flicking from here to there, mesmerized by something or another. Or maybe she was just terrified. “We’re going to do something even better!”

“Can you really catch UFOs with butterfly nets?” she posed, balancing one gingerly against her elbow. Granted, they were the biggest size they could get, but still. Noriko understood the concern.

“Well, sure,” Noriko said, which struck her as a perfectly reasonable response. For her part, Chikalin seemed pleased enough, and nodded, passing a baseball bat into the other’s hands. Its weight settled evenly atop both her palms, and Noriko swung fiercely, once, twice. In another lifetime she might’ve found something in this worth pursuing, but then, it meant she might not have met Anna, and that wouldn’t do at all, not even if it meant sparing herself a bucket of heartache or two weeks of crying. Noriko grinned, “Thanks. They’ll never know what hit them!”

“Did we bring flashlights?” Chikalin asked.

“Just one,” she said, and something dawned on her suddenly. “Crap. I don’t remember if I replaced the battery or not.”

Even in the near-pitch darkness she noticed the way her shoulders shivered at that. Noriko’s mind toggled through several words before settling on “endearing”. It was true, though. She placed a hand against the other girl’s shoulder blade, letting her lean onto it, until eventually Chikalin stilled, her shaky breaths evening out into a calmer rhythm. “Thanks,” she said.

“Don’t sweat it,” Noriko replied, easily. “Relax! Liven up a little. This was your idea, after all. The light still works for now, see?” She clicked the plastic button on and off to prove it. “Here, you hold it.”

“You look far more enthusiastic than I ever was, though,” murmured Chikalin, whose stride was longer than hers, though of course Noriko was faster. With her free hand she could slide her fingers in the spaces between Chikalin’s and have their pace meeting halfway. Noriko thought she might like that, and so she did.

A warmth blossomed, first at the point of contact, then in her chest, and last, the pit of her stomach, where it turned almost into a burn, volatile and raw. Similar, but not the same, and Chikalin was Chikalin, of course. It was rude to expect unreasonable things, like better alien-catching equipment or higher test scores or a big sister who didn’t greet her with the cold shoulder every time Noriko came to visit after school. Most days, you simply had to endure.

“Really?” They trekked further into the mountain, shoulders close enough to be touching. Somewhere in her bag’s pocket was a map of this place, but both her hands felt quite comfortably occupied at the moment. She could fish it out later. “This could be your chance for a big scoop, though!”

“You're right,” Chikalin conceded. She nearly jumped, and swung the light towards a moving shadow that was really just a squirrel, scurrying away. “The rumors say this is where the ship landed. It felt worth pursuing. You know how things are these days,” she added, like it was obvious, and perhaps in a way it was. Three days ago a kid in her class had become an expert in Shakespeare overnight and no one could tell why. Maybe she could tell people that her big sis was perfectly fine and whoever had been sitting in the hospital bed was just an impostor, an agent of some cruel, horrible joke. Maybe.

“Aren’t you glad you have me to come with you?”

Chikalin laughed, “I’m surprised you said yes for something like this. You’re usually so busy.”

“Well, my schedule’s freer these days.” She stared at her shoes, crushing the carpet of twigs and dirt and fallen leaves with every step. It was strange, how easily the things you took for granted could be pulled under you by circumstances out of your control. How much could change in just a few months.

Noticing the uneasy silence that had ensued, Chikalin looked away guiltily, chewing on her bottom lip. For a moment she had looked like she wanted to inquire something, but perhaps she'd remembered it for the delicate subject it was, and hesitated. And perhaps it counted for something that Noriko hadn’t asked her anything about Lisa.

They were friends, after all. To be friends meant knowing not to press fingertips into raw wounds. 

So Noriko nodded and said, “It’s okay. I’m having fun,” and when Chikalin leapt backwards at the sound of an owl’s wings flapping as it perched onto a branch, Noriko squeezed her hand tighter as though to say, _I’m here._ Only a few weeks ago she had felt like the loneliest person in the world, waiting with her shoes scuffing the floor, breathing in the horribly sterile air of the hospital’s lobby. And now…

(Chikalin smiled at her, relieved, her heartrate having steadied some, and her eyes read, _I know._ )

And now, she was here.

She squeezed back, and together, in the uncertain darkness, they went on walking.


End file.
